No More Secrets
by NCCJFAN
Summary: A positive pregnancy test puts Jordan's and Woody's relationship in a tailspin...What's Woody avoiding and how's Jordan going to cope?
1. Dolls and Dreams

**Disclaimer: All characters and Crossing Jordan are the property of Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions. I don't make one red cent off of any of it. This is just mind candy for me…**

Jordan pushed her way through the crowd of shoppers, trying her best to get to the toy display at the store. It was Christmas. That meant shopping. She normally was never really big on shopping, but Christmas was the exception to her rule. She enjoyed buying presents for her friends. She enjoyed picking out something that would match their tastes and likes.

And, although she would never admit it, she enjoyed looking at toys.

She was at the age and place in her life where a good number of her friends, both married and unmarried, had children. And the kid in her…the ten year-old that still stayed frozen in time in her psyche, enjoyed toys. She enjoyed buying for these children. Then she enjoyed watching them open the toys up and asking her to play with them. That was one part of her that had never grown up. And she didn't ever want it to. In many ways, it was a safe place for her soul.

What was unusual about his night is that she stopped by a display of dolls. Jordan had never been a "doll" person. She vaguely remembered having a baby doll that she would drag to bed with her when she was really little. And whether it was because she was raised by a single father, or just because her nature had always been a little tomboyish, Jordan had always preferred trucks and blocks and sports equipment over something that would wet is diaper and cry "Mama." Even her beloved Barbie dolls had not had the "traditional" roles. They were policemen and detectives and firemen….not mommies or nurses or teachers. And God forbid anyone ever bring a Ken into her Barbie townhouse. Her Barbie didn't need a man to be complete.

There was nothing incredibly different or even remarkably beautiful about these dolls. They were just the typical curly-haired, eyes-that-open-and-shut, wet-when-you-feed-it-a-bottle, frilly-dress-and-lacy-socks dolls. And it wasn't that Jordan was particularly feeling nostalgic about her childhood and lack of dolls. It was what the dolls represented.

To a little girl, these dolls meant more than just playtime…they represented a part of her future…motherhood….children….and perhaps marriage.

Dolls…babies. Why did the need to procreate rage so predominantly in human nature?

Was the reason that she was suddenly drawn to these playthings the fact that this part of her life had seemingly evaded her grasp? That she had been so caught up in her work and her mother's murder that she had pushed that part of her womanhood away…buried it deep, always imagining she would get around to it someday?

And that someday was here now?

And she didn't know what to do about it.

She had run a test. She had been to the doctor. She was pregnant. And she knew it before she had even done those things. She just kept telling herself her period was late…two months late. But the swollen breasts, the mood swings, the early morning nausea all signaled to the doctor in her that her body was harboring a new life…That the part of her that she thought that time had pushed through her fingers was indeed, now a reality. Her reality.

She had quit drinking regular coffee and switched to decaf. She had stopped drinking alcohol. She had removed herself from her smoky bar as much as possible. She was drinking more water and milk and taking those God-awful prenatal vitamins that some days just made the nausea worse. She had even looked at maternity clothes.

She had done everything but tell the father. She sighed and sat the doll back down on its shelf, straightening its little dress as she did so. Telling the father…how hard could it be? Surely he must have some idea…that one night of heated passion when emotions just took over…

The one night when she said the hell with her head and hello to her heart and just allowed herself to _feel_. Feel something other than logic…remorse…or fear. Just allowed herself to be loved…and to love him in return.

And she was rewarded with a conception that she never thought would happen. And she was sure he thought the same way – it would never happen. A woman's biological clock slows down after 32…not that she couldn't get pregnant….it's just that it's a little harder. Sometimes women past this age need a little hormonal help.

Evidently not her. First time without protection and she's the poster child for fertility.

Jordan sighed again and fought the crowd back out to the front of the store. She climbed in her El Camino and gently rubbed her still-flat stomach. "Merry Christmas, little one," she softly said, as she started the engine and headed for home.


	2. Restoring Friendship?

**Chapter Two**

It hadn't started out as a night of passion. It had started as a night of tentatively restoring a friendship. She had seen him at the Pogue…and was surprised to see him. Since the plane crash, he had hidden himself away…in her self-absorption, she hadn't noticed that he and Devan had become a couple. Devan's death had hit him hard. Too much death had occurred in his life…his mother, his dad…now Devan. Jordan hadn't known about it all at the time, but that night, after a few beers, he loosened up. He told her everything.

And he couldn't imagine why he did it. Except that through his losses, realized that something was missing in his life. Her. And while he had no great expectations of renewing anything remotely romantic with her, he did hope to restore their friendship. On some level, he realized he needed her in his life.

She had to close up. He waited on her. He had never liked her walking out of the bar by herself. Her old El Camino wouldn't start. He gave her a ride home. She invited him up for coffee. To be honest, she was afraid to leave him alone. He seemed desolate. Lost. Alone. Just as alone and empty as she was. He followed her upstairs. And she put the coffee on.

They were sitting on the couch, waiting for the coffee to stop brewing, talking. Chatting really. About inconsequential stuff. She wasn't sure why it happened, but suddenly she realized they were sitting very close. She could smell his cologne…feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt. And his blue eyes were looking down into hers.

Sometimes the truth comes upon you gradually, like realizing there's no Santa Claus. And sometimes it rears back and smacks you between the eyes with the force of a two-by-four. That's what happened to Jordan that night….she realized she loved this man….and as scary as love was, for her it was less scary with Woody. He was hurting…in pain, and all she could think of was that because she loved him, she wanted to alleviate some of that pain. She had reached out and gently took his hand, told him everything was going to be okay…that he was going to be okay. They both were.

"I don't know, Jordan. About you and me, that is….being okay. We've both lost so much…parents, friends. How do you fill up the holes they leave in your life? How do you really go on? I wonder if there really is hope for us."

That had shocked her. Woody was the eternal optimist. Or so it seemed. Now he appeared as conflicted as she did. "All I know, Woody, is at the end of the day, you survive. What you make of your survival is up to you. You can become bitter, or you can accept the good with the bad that life throws at you and concentrate on the good," she replied.

He had thought for a moment and nodded. "Is that what you do, Jordan? Concentrate on the good?"

"I try…but I feel really bad about the way I've treated you …. And Devan. Devan told her mom I had been a great friend to her. Truth was, I blew her off. She seemed too eager. And somewhere along my way, I blew you off one too many times, too. And now…well, you're not exactly gone…but things aren't the way they were, either."

He had given her a half-cocked grin and said, "It's my fault, too. I got kind of harsh with you, too. Maybe…maybe we've just both taken for granted that at the end of the day, we'd be there for each other….Maybe…"

He had gotten no further. Who reached for whom first, was really a moot point. All Jordan remembered was his lips were on hers and this time, she didn't pull back. Unlike that kiss so long ago in California, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts.

And he had expected her to pull away from him in a manner of seconds. So when she gently nipped his lower lip with her teeth and slid her tongue in beside his, he realized…_she is serious_. His arms had gone around her and she had wrapped hers around his neck. And then the coffeemaker beeped.

It had brought Jordan enough to her senses to partially stop kissing him and ask, "Coffee?" as he had licked a trail down from her ear to her neck. He had looked her in the eyes and said "No…that's not what I want or need right now...and neither do you." He picked her up in his arms and purposefully carried her to the bedroom. Then with exquisite slowness he had undressed her…kissing her and softly touching her until she was bare beneath him. Only then had he discarded his own clothes….

And neither one had thought about anything else but each other until the next morning. She had woken up with his head on her breast, her arms around him, as if she was trying, even in sleep, to ease some of his hurt away. He looked better…relaxed. But after last night, she was still boneless herself. He had pushed her until she thought she could go no further, and then held her close as she climaxed, gently stroking her hair and back as she came back down to earth, finally collapsing on top of her and surrendering to sleep.

The next morning….it had hit them both like the proverbial ton of bricks about what had happened. "Are you sorry, Jordan?" he had asked, avoiding her eyes.

"No," she had whispered. "I'm not…are you?"

He had smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I don't think so…but I still think it's too soon for me to say anything I may not mean. I care for you Jordan. I really do. At one point in my life, I could have told you I loved you…but now, I've lost so much…I couldn't bear to think what would happen if I told you I loved you and then you pull away again."

It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him there was no way that she was going to let him go again…she had learned her lesson…she desperately wanted him…when he had abruptly gotten up, reached for his trousers and started getting dressed. She had sat there in the bed, sheets clutched to her chest, watching him. He had gone to the bathroom to brush his hair when it had hit him…no condom. They didn't use a thing last night – at least none he was aware of. And he had been copiously aware of her body enough to know she had no birth control patch on.

He had confronted her. She had told him no…she had used nothing…she had nothing to use….there had been no men in her life…and besides, the doctors had told her that her body's fertility cycle was slowing down already….and she wasn't in her fertile part of the month, anyway. No worries.

He had narrowed his eyes and looked at her closely, but she had already gotten out of bed and was pulling her clothes on. She didn't want him to remember her sitting in the bed, nude, pining for him. Goodbyes had been awkward.

"See you soon, Jo," he had said. "And if something does come of this, I need to know."

She had smiled at him and simply said, "Don't worry."


	3. I'm Not Ready to be a Dad

**Chapter Three**

So, not knowing what to say, she said nothing. And at first, no one but her, and her doctor, were aware of the changes going on in her body. She appeared to grow thinner, because her bust line expanded. But soon, subtly, her waist began to catch up.

Garret had noticed it first. They had been in the elevator together. She had reached out to push the button to go from the lobby to their offices. He noticed the slight bulge at her waistline. When they had reached their floor, he asked if he could see her in his office. He knew her eating habits. There was no way she could have gained weight. "Are you pregnant?" he asked, point blank, and getting to the heart of the matter.

Jordan had teared up, looked away, and shook her head yes. Garret sighed. "Have you made any plans?"

"Well, I'm going to keep it, if that's what you're asking."

"No…I mean, have you told the father?"

"No. He's going through a lot right now…he needs time."

"Jordan…who is the father?" She shook her head no. She wasn't telling.

"Is it Woody?"

She nodded again, not trusting her voice. This time, the tears escaped her eyes and began running down her cheeks. "Oh, Jordan," he had softly sighed, gently hugging her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No. Not right now."

Nigel and Bug had caught on next, as her tummy began to push at the waistband of her pants. "You shouldn't be doing that, you know," Nigel told her one afternoon, as she helped to turn over a body. "You could hurt yourself…and…" he had given her middle a pointed look.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked.

Bug nodded. "You're at the point it's difficult to deny you're pregnant."

"How far along are you, love?" asked Nigel.

"About four months," she had said, backing away from the autopsy table and letting the men turn the body without her. Nothing more was said until she was ready to go home. Nigel found his way into her office.

"You know what I'm going to ask, so out with it lass, who's the father?"

Jordan sighed and looked up at the tall man. "Woody."

"Woodrow?" Nigel asked, incredulously. He was under the impression that Woody was still mourning the loss of Devan too much to even think about another woman. He had heard grief did strange things to people but still…. "Does he know?"

"No …not yet."

Nigel blew out a sigh. Jordan and Woody worked too closely together for him not to notice. "What are you going to tell him and when?"

Jordan gave him a small smirk. "Well, the what is kind of obvious. The when…that's different. I don't know."

"You can't keep this hidden forever…I mean sooner or later…"

"I know…I just don't know when's the best time….or how he'll take it."

The when came sooner than she was prepared for. A few weeks later, she was on call when a homicide was phoned in. Woody was the detective on sight. It was winter and Jordan had on a heavy coat, but even by this point in her pregnancy, her waistline could not be camouflaged. He had done a double take when he saw her, coming over and untying the belt on her coat, opening it, and staring at her tummy. He looked for what seemed like endless seconds before closing her coat back up and retying it. Searching her eyes for answers, and finding them telling him nothing, he simply said, "We will talk later, Jordan. I promise."

As quickly as she could, Jordan had gotten the body back to the morgue and began to work. She couldn't keep Woody out of the autopsy room, it was his case. She could, however, try to maintain her professionalism…at least until after work. As soon as his form parted the doors, she began. "Estimated time of death is ten to…"

Woody cut her off. "I'm sure whatever you say is true, but that's not the primary reason I'm here." He pointed to her waist. "Is it mine?"

The easy way out. She could tell him no and not have to worry about how he would take his impending fatherhood. They could still maintain some sort of friendship, and she could get out of telling him. But what if the baby was born with his eyes? There'd be no denying who the father was and Jordan would have hell to pay, she knew. Swallowing hard, she simply nodded and waited to hear what he would say.

Not a word. Woody didn't say a thing…he simply turned on his heel and left her and the body alone. Jordan didn't see him again for the rest of the work day.

* * *

Woody went back to his apartment and paced. A father. He was going to be a father. One half of his DNA had been given to the child growing in Jordan.

Jordan was pregnant…with his baby.

One night of unprotected passion and now this. He slammed one fist into the other hand and sat down on his couch. It wasn't that he didn't want the baby….

It's just that he never expected to be a dad. Not after the way his dad had behaved.

He had heard in college that most parenting skills are caught, not taught. In other words, history can repeat itself in families. What your dad did to you, you are possibly conditioned to repeat with your children. Woody's dad had been demanding and abusive after his mother died. Because he was always apprehensive he may be the same, he had vowed early on in life not to have children.

His past scarred him…and it frightened him to believe he may, somewhere, deep inside his soul and psyche, have the same capacity to repeat the same actions with another person….a tiny person, at that.

He was totally unprepared.

But she was pregnant. And hadn't told him. He counted backwards on his fingers. She was nearly four months, if he was correct in his assumption. That meant he had slightly over five months to get himself prepared to be come a father. Five months. Slightly over twenty weeks.

Oh God, he thought, as he let out a huge sigh. He wasn't ready for this.


	4. Butterfly Kisses

**Chapter Four**

Butterfly kisses.

That was the only thing that Jordan could bring to mind as she began to feel the slight stirrings of life inside her – the light, fluttery feelings as soft as butterfly wings that would automatically send her hand to her stomach. Morning sickness wasn't much of an issue for her any longer…the smell of coffee or Chinese food wouldn't send her running for the bathroom. But the gentle kick of the baby would send her hand to her abdomen in a heartbeat.

Nigel caught the motion first, one day when they were working in trace evidence. "Baby moving?" he had asked. Jordan had nodded, still keeping her hand over the place where she had felt the gentle kick. "Better get used to it love. It's only going to get worse."

"I know."

"What's the doctor telling you?"

"I'm healthy…so is the baby…due date is on schedule end of July or first of August."

"Know what you're having yet?"

"The doctor does….he said he could tell from the last sonogram. I don't want to know."

"What does Woody say?"

Jordan turned her head away from her friend and pretended to concentrate on the body in front of her. "Nothing. Woody has said nothing." As a matter of fact, Jordan hadn't seen the young detective since the day two weeks ago when he turned on his heel and exited her autopsy room.

"You mean he doesn't know yet or just hasn't said anything?"

"He knows, Nige. He left after I told him and I haven't heard a word from him since."

Nigel was puzzled. That didn't sound like Mr. Woody "Reliable" Hoyt. "I wonder why?" he asked.

"I guess he's still in shock….he hasn't seen me in a couple of weeks….we haven't worked on a case together…."

"No calls?"

"Not even an e-mail."

"Do you think he believes it really isn't his?"

Jordan sighed and pushed back her mask. "I don't see how he can get around it. But I really don't care. I'm keeping the baby, and if necessary, I'll raise it on my own…by myself. I have the resources…and the money. I don't need him."

Nigel said nothing. He knew that was true…and Jordan was stubborn enough to do it. But she shouldn't have to. He wasn't sure what was wrong with Woody, but planned to address the problem as soon as given the chance.

The opportunity came the next week. Nigel was working on some ballistic reports for Woody. The detective phoned him and asked that he either e-mail them or fax them over. Nigel refused. "I think we need to discuss them…" After some hemming and hawing, Woody agreed and walked over to the morgue.

"You don't have to worry, she's not here…she's at the doctor's," Nigel told him as Woody cautiously entered trace evidence.

Woody paused for a beat. "So you know?" he asked.

"It's a little hard to hide now. Why have you been avoiding her, Woody?"

Woody sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a long story, Nige."

"And I have all the time in the world."

"I think I need to just get the ballistics reports and leave." Woody reached for the file, but Nigel pulled the file away.

"I need some answers, Woodrow. Jordan may not be forcing you to face the facts, but I am. She's hurt, many mornings she's not feeling well, she's tired a great deal of the time, and the hardest part of this pregnancy is still ahead for her. As her _friend_, I want to know exactly what your game plan is."

Woody sighed and sat down on one of the lab stools. "The honest answer is I don't know. It's not the coward's way out…I just simply don't know. I don't know why Jordan didn't come to me as soon as she knew she was pregnant…I don't know if the baby is really mine. I don't know what she expects…marriage? Child support? Joint custody? "

"What do you expect, Woody?"

"I don't know that, either. I'm bare functioning now…first Devan's death, now this. I haven't had time to adjust…"

"And Jordan has? First you push her away for Devan, have a relationship with her, then evidently feel adjusted enough to sleep with Jordan and get her pregnant. Now you're not sure about whose baby it is and what you're going to do?" Nigel's voice was rising with anger.

"It's a little more complicated than that Nigel," Woody began, only to be cut off by a cold voice.

"Really? I don't think so. I'm pregnant. I'm the mother and you're the father. If you don't believe it, Nige can run a DNA test for you after the baby is born," Jordan said from the doorway. She had come in quietly, witnessing the last part of Nigel's and Woody's argument.

"He can run three DNA tests for all I care. You're the father. And you know what else I don't care about? You. What you do or don't do. I may not have gotten pregnant by myself, but I can have the baby on my own and raise it, Hoyt. And until you get your act together, I don't want to see you."

And with that, Jordan pulled away from the doorframe she was leaning on and made her way to her office, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

She pulled the blinds to her office windows, locked the door, and sat down at her desk. Putting her head in her hands she wondered why she had been so stupid as to believe that he actually could have cared for her….and why on earth had she let him make love to her that night…and why didn't she at least have the presence of mind to make sure they at least used something?

She didn't think. Jordan Cavanaugh didn't think. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. But usually when she had momentarily lapses of judgment, it concerned her following a case, or chasing her mother's murderer. Not when it could mean the possible creation of another human being.

However, when it concerned Woody, and her feelings for him, lately she hadn't been able to think clearly. She had only wanted to relieve some of the pain he was obviously feeling. At least make him forget it for a while. And it worked. Too well, she grimaced, glancing down at her growing belly. The doctor said she was doing fine…gaining weight…the baby was developing normally. The due date was August 3. Her iron was a little low…that was one of the reasons she was staying tired all the time. He had given her ferrous sulfate tablets. That should help.

A gentle knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts. She got up and unlocked the bolt. Garret poked his head around the door frame. "Can I come in?" She nodded and opened the door a little wider.

"Let me guess, you couldn't help but overhear my argument with Woody and wanted to make sure I'm all right?"

"Well…yes and no. I need you in Autopsy Two, if you feel up to it, but yeah, I did overhear it and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine…and let me change and I'll meet you there."

Garret stopped her by putting his hand on her arm. "Jordan…are you sure?"

"Yeah…I'm sure, Gar."

Garret looked at her closely for a minute. "Okay. See you in a few."


	5. I Hate To Wake You Up, but

**Chapter Five**

The iron pills weren't helping Jordan much as she headed into her fifth month of pregnancy. The bulge against her jeans and scrubs was growing larger. She finally had admitted defeat and bought several pairs of maternity pants. She had fought it. Hard. But finally she gave in and went with Rene' to one of her maternity boutiques. Rene', being seven month pregnant, knew who had the best clothes. Jordan nearly laughed when she thought about the situation. Who knew that the way she and Rene' would finally bond would be in the maternity section of one of Boston's exclusive women's shops?

She had kept on working….at the morgue and at the Pogue. She had steadfastly refused Nigel's offer to find Max and ask him to come back home. She could handle it. The staff ran it most nights…she helped on Fridays and Saturdays….working on the books between customers. She worked doubles when it was her turn…and rotation. She wouldn't have to stop that until she was seven months along…and then when she was about eight months or so, Garret would pull her in off of field work. She would have eight weeks maternity leave, plus any additional vacation time she had accrued through the years.

She could do it. She did do it. But she was tired. Most of the time. She sighed as she came into her office after yet another autopsy. It had been a full day…Six autopsies. She was more than tired. She was exhausted. Too tired to change back into her street clothes. Wearily, she slipped off her shoes and lay down on the couch in her office, turning on her side to get comfortable. Pulling her New England Patriots throw off the back of her couch and over her, she fell asleep. _If another body comes in while I'm on rotation, they can wake me up,_ was her last conscious thought.

And it was there that Woody found her several hours later. She had done an autopsy today on one of his victims. She had faxed her reports over to him, but he had some questions…not just about the victim, but about her. He had swallowed his pride and his fear and decided to walk over and see if she was still there…Sydney had pointed him to her office. She was still sound asleep, her hair spread out on the pillow behind her head. Her face was rounder. Her tummy was bigger. The baby was growing…his baby…their child. He swallowed hard. He still couldn't deal with that fact, but hadn't had the courage to tell her why. Maybe his dad had been right. Maybe he was truly a coward.

But right now he needed answers on his victim or his chief was going to have his ass. He gently shook her. "Jordan….Jordan…you need to wake up." She opened her eyes, still a little hazy about where she was and why he was in the room.

"Wha…." She asked, trying to sit up.

"I need the autopsy results on Rosa Jones…the 62 year-old woman you autopsied this afternoon."

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. Hang on a minute." She swung her legs over the couch and put her head in her hands. The morning sickness was over, but she still had bouts of dizziness when she got up. She sat there a minute, breathing deeply.

"You okay?" Woody asked, momentarily fearful that she was going to pass out…or worse.

"I'm fine. Just get dizzy sometimes…but it's better than puking your guts up for the first half of the day." Jordan tentatively stood and was delighted when the ground remained solid beneath her feet instead of feeling like it was lurching to the left or right. She re-focused her eyes and walked over to her desk, hands on her back, gently stretching out her spine.

It was then Woody saw just how big she had become…at five months. Was it normal for her to be this big now? Nervously he asked, "How does the doctor say things are coming along?"

Jordan looked at him sharply for a minute, and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why the hell did he want to know, when she caught the expression on his face. He was scared. More scared than she was. He was desperately trying to hide it, but he was frightened. She nearly laughed. If anyone had the right to be scared out of their wits…it was her. She not only had to be pregnant, she had to deliver….then nurse, change, and take care of this little person until they were grown. "He says I'm fine and the baby is strong."

"Baby."

"Yeah…baby." She looked at him questioningly.

"There's just one."

"Yes, Woody. Just one."

"I mean…you just bigger than…I don't know…"

"The reasons I look biggerare because I was sort of small to begin with…and the baby is big."

Woody swallowed hard. He had heard the nightmare stories from his aunts about how big he had been. Ten pounds and change. His mom had birthed him naturally…no drugs. But Jordan was a lot smaller than his mother had ever dreamed of being. How could she give birth….He shook his head. He didn't want to go there in his mind yet.

Jordan located the file and handed it to him. "There you go, Farm Boy. Have fun…" her voice trailed off as she felt a kick. Her hand went to her abdomen. "Whoa." She said.

"Jordan?" Woody sounded frantic. "Is everything okay?"

"Kick. The baby kicked. Hard this time. Bugger's getting stronger…There he goes again." She reached out and took Woody's hand. "Feel that?" She placed his hand over the spot on her stomach where the baby was kicking. Woody felt the small impacts on the inside of his palm. He drew his hand back as if had been burnt.

"Woody?"

"I gotta go, Jo." And he turned and nearly ran from her office – like someone had set his backside on fire.


	6. Good Morning, Cal

**Chapter Six**

The fifth month quickly slid into the sixth month…and Jordan grew bigger. Emmie ordered maternity scrubs for her. Nigel and Bug were careful with her…she didn't lift anything heavier than her scalpel and was not allowed in the room with an x-ray machine. Woody was in and out of the morgue frequently. His eyes would flit to her stomach and then to her face, but he never stayed long. He'd ask how she was doing and if she needed anything…and her answers were always the same… "Fine and no."

If Jordan thought his behavior completely out of character, Garret, Nigel, and Bug were even more confused. They had known Woody for as long as Jordan had…and the way he was acting was bazaar, to say the least. Garret, especially, had reasoned that when Woody did find out Jordan was pregnant with his child, he would at least have been more supportive. He really thought the detective would insist that Jordan marry him and they raise the child together. He assumed Woody would be the rational one.

So much for assumptions. Woody was running scared and Jordan was having to be the adult all by herself.

The truth was, Woody really was running scared. Every morning when he looked in the mirror, he despised himself – for not being there for her, for not being excited about becoming a father, for not being sure about the baby. His fear…just kept getting bigger as the pregnancy progressed. He didn't know how to tell Jordan that the best thing she could really do was raise the baby without him.

He had thought about leaving Boston…thought long and hard. But in the end decided against it. He wanted to be around to at least see his offspring…if the baby was really his. And be there incase an emergency happened and she absolutely needed him. And he wanted to make sure she was all right after the baby was born. He still didn't see how Jordan could deliver this baby. She was so tiny…But she had signed up for LaMaze classes and had said that the doctor told her she could deliver it naturally. If it was up to him, Woody would give her every drug the state of Massachusetts would legally allow her to have and then some….the thought of her being in pain because of him rode his mind and conscious hard.

He was contemplating all this one Saturday morning over his coffee cup when the doorbell rang. He wasn't expecting company, so he checked through his peephole…No. It couldn't be. Not him. Not now. But his banging on the door was relentless…. "Open up, bro. I know you're in there…whatsa matter? Not up yet? In bed with that Jordan chick?

Woody opened the door so he would shut up.

"Shh….you'll wake the neighbors…and what the hell are you doing here? And why didn't you call first?"

"What? And give you the chance to tell me no before I left Milwaukee? Not a chance. I'm here because you didn't come to Aunt Jean's for Christmas and I was worried about you. So I had a few days off….hopped a flight….and here I am. How about a hug, big bro?" Cal said, laughing at Woody's look of sheer displeasure.

Woody shut the door. "How long are you staying?"

"A couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks?! Don't you want to go to Disney World or something on vacation?"

"Told you…you weren't home for Christmas and everyone was worried…I was worried. You've never missed Christmas at Aunt Jean's since you moved to Boston. What's up Woody? You don't look right…." Cal said, as he plopped himself down on Woody's couch and looked up at his big brother. Woody sighed. There was only ten months between their ages…Woody had always played the big brother role to the hilt…he had to. But Cal could read Woody like a book. Cal knew when something wasn't quite right….and he had hit the nail on the head. And Woody knew Cal wouldn't let up until he knew everything.

"So how's Jordan?" Cal asked, stretching his legs out on the coffee table in front of him.

"Get your feet off the furniture. Were you raised in a barn? Wait…don't answer that question." Aunt Jean and Uncle Tommy were dairy farmers.

"So how's Jordan?" Cal repeated, swinging his feet off the table and laying down on the couch with his feet dangling off the side.

"Jordan's….Jordan's….fine."

"A little hesitation there, bro. I don't think so. I figured she was the reason you skipped on all the yuletide joy at home." Cal rolled his eyes at his comment. "But I guess I was wrong. Whatsup? Another filly in your stable now?"

Woody shook his head. "It's complicated, Cal."

"And what in your life or my life hasn't been? Wanna talk about it?"

Woody nodded. "I know it's early, but could you handle a beer?"

"You got some here, or do we need to make a beer run?"

Woody pulled two twenties from his pocket. "There's a store on the corner. I'm going to get a shower while your're gone. Here's the apartment key to let yourself back in. Get two six-packs and anything else that strikes your fancy."

Cal looked at his brother's face for a moment. "You're in serious shit, aren't you?"

Woody nodded and headed for the shower.

* * *

"Okay, so let me get this straight, Woody," Cal said, an hour and two beers later. "You get tired of Jordan keeping you dangling, so you hook up with this Devan chick. And things are going well…she's cute…blonde…sweet. It's a good friendship and you're hoping, that just because you're thirty now and haven't had a serious relationship since you've moved to Boston, that things would click between you and her?"

Woody nodded and pulled on his beer.

"But before you could find out, she's killed in an airplane crash."

Woody nodded again. "Yeah…we couldn't even find her remain, Cal."

Cal let out a low whistle. "I'm so sorry, bro. Really. Let me ask you a question. Did you love her?"

"I don't know… I don't think so. But she died before we could even explore that option. I would like to think that eventually, we would have cared for each other deeper than a friendship."

"Let me ask you something else. Who did you think of when you kissed her?"

Woody lowered his eyes and didn't answer.

"And you were disappointed when you opened your eyes, it wasn't her."

"Yeah." Woody finished off that beer and uncapped another.

"Did you two ever have sex?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Just asking….trying to get a read on this whole situation…."

"No. The answer is no. We hadn't gotten to that part…we were _friends_ for Christ's sake. Friends without benefits. I think she was trying to work out something with her ex-finance."

"Well…that tells you a lot."

"I know."

"So…..where's Jordan in this picture? She doesn't strike me as a girl that would let her man go without a fight…" Cal had met Jordan on a couple of occasions when he had come to Boston to visit Woody. Cal like Jordan. She was everything his brother needed….excitement, passion, just a little irresponsibility in Woody's too-responsible world. And he would bet…just bet his next paycheck, she was just as crazy about his brother as Woody was crazy about her. She was just too scared to admit it. He had hoped Woody would make her feel secure enough that she wouldn't be frightened to tell him.

"Jordan didn't say a word."

Cal raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really. Not until after Devan died. We were having drinks at the Pogue and it all came out. Mom. Dad. Devan…how all the losses made me feel. I went back to her place for coffee…and…"

"And what?"

"And…." Woody made an uncomfortable motion.

"You slept with her."

"Did more than sleep, Cal. A girl doesn't get pregnant if you just sleep with her."

Cal's mouth hung open for a full minute. "You've knocked Jordan Cavanaugh up?"

Woody nodded, a blush coming to his cheeks.

Cal whistled again. "No wonder you didn't come to Aunt Jean's for Christmas. You were kind of busy. So when's the wedding?"

"There isn't going to be one."

"What? You going to wait until after the baby is born, or you two going to live together for a while?"

"Neither."

"Okay….is this your decision or hers?"

Woody thought for a minute. "I guess it's mine because I haven't asked her to marry me."

Cal looked at his brother in complete disbelief. "No. Not you. Not Mr. Reliable. Surely you jest."

"No. And you know why. You of all people should know why, Cal."

"And how does she feel about this?"

"I don't know. We haven't discussed it."

"What have you discussed?"

"If it's mine and how she feels physically. That's about all."

"Do you think there's any possibility that it isn't yours?"

Woody shook his head. He knew that baby was his…the due date corresponded with their one night together. Besides, he really didn't feel that there had been anyone else in Jordan's life. "No. I know the baby's mine."

Cal shook his head. Good thing he was here and had two weeks. It would take him good week just to fill Jordan in on why his brother was acting so wonky.


	7. Hoyt Family History

**Chapter Seven**

"Is Dr. Cavanaugh here?" Cal asked the pretty lady with green eyes who met him in the hallway.

"Are you here to identify someone?" Lily asked.

"No…I'm just a friend. I was in town and thought I'd come by to see her, if she wasn't busy." Cal had dropped Woody off at work and had conned his way into using Woody's car for the day. Told him he wanted to do some sight seeing. He had circled the block and made a beeline for Jordan's office, careful to park several blocks away so Woody wouldn't see his car.

"What's your name and I'll ask her if she has time to see you."

"Calvin. Calvin Hoyt."

Lily looked closely at the young man for a minute, noting his smile and dimples. "You're Woody's brother, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

Lily grinned back. He was nearly as good-looking as Woody. "Come with me. I'm sure she'll see you."

Jordan was in her office, shuffling through paperwork when she heard a knock at her door. "Hey good-looking…" said a voice.

Jordan turned around in her office chair. "Calvin…Calvin Coolidge Hoyt…what the hell brings you to Boston?" She stood up and walked over to give him a hug.

He eyeballed her stomach. "Well….Woody didn't make it to Aunt Jean's for Christmas and I was worried about him so I came to see what he was up to…" Jordan hugged him anyway, then they settled down on her couch. Calvin seemed like he wanted to talk and for once in her life, Jordan was ready to listen.

"So it looks like you've been busy," he said, still not taking his eyes off her mid-section.

"Just a little. How much has Woody told you?"

"Pretty much everything. The baby is his…and he's acting like an ass."

"That he is. It's so not like Woody, Cal. I can't figure it out…not that I was pushing for a proposal, because I'm not. I can take care of myself and anyone else who comes along…but I had hoped that he would be supportive…be a dad. It seems like he's not interested…he just gets real nervous when he's around me…I mean, I'm sure some of that's to be expected, but he acts like, well….he…he….doesn't want anything to do with the baby."

Calvin gently took Jordan's hands. "How much has Woody told you about his past, Jo?"

Jordan thought for a minute. "Not a whole lot. Not really. I know your parents are dead. Your mom died of cancer when Woody was four. Your dad was a deputy and was shot in the back by an 18 year-old when Woody was 16. He watched his dad suffer for 10 days and he died in Woody's arms. Then he kind of helped raise you…then Annie…then got the hell out of Kewuanne. That's it."

Calvin nodded. "I thought so. He didn't tell you anything about our dad, did he?"

Jordan shook her head no.

"Got some time? I can fill in the gaps, so that you know exactly _why_ my brother is acting like an ass."

"Got all the time it takes."

* * *

So Calvin filled in the gaps for Jordan. From the time that their mother died and their father began his abusive cycles to the horrible fight that he had Woody had had before their dad had stumbled off the local bar to lose himself in yet another bottle of whiskey.

"Dad was abusive, Jo. Tremendously abusive. If this would have happened now, social services would have been all over it and Woody and I would have been taken away….but it didn't. And it happened in Kewuanne, where people tend to mind their own business about family issues. As a result, we were beat. Sometimes nearly to death.

"Woody got the worst of it. He was the oldest. Dad thought that Woody should be able to make perfect grades, keep a perfect house, and watch me. He thought that way since Woody was four. And he would beat Woody if anything went wrong. And then, when Woody couldn't take it anymore, Dad would beat me. Then Woody would try to stop him from beating me, and Dad would beat Woody again. It got worse if Dad was drinking. As Woody got bigger, Dad had to think of another way to keep Woody under his thumb. So he developed his fine art of verbal abuse. Called Woody all kinds of things. Made him feel like shit. Called him a coward….yellow….that he would never amount to anything and would always be a failure. Just another damn dairy farmer from Kawuanne.

"They had fought all day the day that dad got shot. Woody finally told him to get out the door…leave and not come back. He had seen a lawyer about me and him becoming emancipated. Dad asked what that meant. Woody told Dad that meant that me and Woody would no longer have to answer to him…we'd be on our own. Dad got real mad and left and went down to the bar and got drunk. When that 18 year-old showed up to rob the bar, Dad was in no shape to try to defend anyone, but he pulled his service revolver anyway. The punk shot him before Dad could even get his gun out of his holster. Woody has always blamed himself…said he drove dad to drink and that he was the reason dad wasn't alive…"

"So anyway," Cal continued. "Woody stuck around until after I was through with high school and had a couple of community college years under my belt. Then after the thing with Annie fizzled, he high-tailed it to Boston and you know the rest. But you have to remember, Jordan, it's not that Woody doesn't love you, or the baby. It's that he thinks he can't be a good dad. He really believes that if he was to become a father to that child," Calvin placed his hand on Jordan's stomach, "he would end up abusing it like our dad did us. So he's thinking that for your good and the kid's best interest, it is the best thing for him to stay away….he really believes that what your parents did to you, you will repeat to your kids. And he doesn't want that…I know it's wonky, but that's what he believes."

Jordan listened in horror to Cal's story. She hadn't heard a tenth of what Woody's life was actually like before Cal filled her in. All she wanted to do now was find Woody and just hold him…protect him from anything else. "But Woody's not that kind of person, Cal. I've seen the man in action. He's saved my butt more times than I could count. He's a gentle, loving man."

"Who thinks he's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

"And who had to grow up too fast under difficult circumstances."

"And who still hears in his mind his father's voice calling him loser and a coward every day, Jordan."

"Oh God, Cal. What do we do?"

"I don't know….I've wrestled with the issue for years. So has Woody. There aren't any pat answers. I thought Woody had come to terms with it…dealt with it. He's so quiet about it – rarely talks about Dad anymore. Guess I was wrong. Guess he just kept it pushed down inside."

"And I thought I was complicated."

"Nope. You just had a few problems. Woodrow has issues….lots of back issues that keep poppingup."

"What can we do?"

"Nothing…nothing until he decides _he_ wants to deal with them, sweetie."


	8. Forgive Yourself

**Chapter Eight**

Cal stayed only a week and then decided to fly back home. "I would like to have some vacation time left to come back and see my niece or nephew when it's born," he told Jordan, the morning before he flew out. He was sitting on the top of her desk, looking over at her. She was lying on the couch, desperately trying to find a comfortable position for her back. If her second trimester had been hard, the third was going to be a bitch, she was thinking.

"I'll let you know the minute I go into labor," she laughed.

"Yeah, me and who else? I have a feeling you've got a list as long as your arm."

"That is true…maybe I'll just have one big conference call…"

Cal chuckled and got up off her desk. Walking over to her, he helped her up and gave her one last hug. "Take care of yourself, Jo. And junior…or junior-ess. And do me one favor?"

"What?"

"Don't give up on my brother. He'll come around…at least in someway. He's just got to realize, he's not dad."

Jordan nodded. "I know…I know he's not. And I'm not giving up." She kissed Cal's cheek and waved him out of her office. "Have a good flight…and be careful."

He turned around and winked at her. "I'll be more careful than you and Woody were…"

* * *

Woody drove Cal to the airport in silence. "You going to be okay, Wood?" Cal finally asked, glancing over at his brother.

"Yeah. I will be. How….how…was Jordan this morning?"

"She's doing okay….her back is bothering her now. She can't get comfortable. She's getting ready to go into her last trimester, so she's going to be uncomfortable for most of the time."

Woody nodded. "Yeah. Garret's pulling her off rotation and double shifts this week. She'll work strictly nine to five. Next month, she'll come out of field work and stay in the office."

"So….?" Cal asked.

"So…..what?" asked Woody right back.

"So…what are you going to do? Make an honest woman of her or watch from the sidelines?"

"Calvin…it's really none of your business."

"Yes it is. You're my brother and Jordan is the mother of my nephew…or niece."

"She still doesn't know what she's….we're having?"

"Said the doctor knows, but she wants to be surprised."

Woody sighed. That sounded like Jordan. If he was involved, he would know and have the nursery ready by now. Nursery? Oh, God. Where was Jordan going to put the baby? Was she keeping her Pearle Street apartment or moving into Max's, or what?

They had arrived at Logan. Woody pulled his car up and helped Cal unload the few bags he had. Cal hugged him before he left to get on the plane. "Take care of yourself, Woody. And Jordan. And the baby."

"I will…have a good flight."

"And Woody?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll be a great Dad. You're nothing at all like ours….you don't have any of his anger or behavior. You're too much like Mom …and you know how loving she was. Can I give you just a bit of advice from your baby brother?

"Sure…"

"Forgive Dad. Forgive yourself. Then go home to Jordan and your child." And with that, Cal disappeared into the terminal, leaving Woody on the sidewalk, contemplating his brother's sudden wisdom.

* * *

It took him two days to get up his courage to go to her apartment. She was working regular office hours, so he knew she was home this Friday night. Besides, her El Camino was in her parking slot. That was something else he was worried about. What was she going to drive when the baby came? Not that hunk of junk. Besides, it didn't even have a back seat….and she had to put a car seat in the back seat. That was the law. Woody did know that.

Nervously, he knocked on her door. "Just a minute," he heard her voice say from the other side. He heard her stepping over things to get to the door.

"Oh, hi…." She said softly. He was the last person she expected to see. "Come in. You'll have to excuse the mess. I'm trying to do a little rearranging and painting." She stepped aside so he could come in. The last time he was here was that night…when she invited him up for coffee….when…when…he mentally shook his head. That would definitely not be happening tonight…not with her seven months pregnant…and probably not ever again.

"So what are you doing?" he asked, surveying her apartment curiously.

"Nigel moved my bed over and to the side. I'm putting the crib against the other wall. I'm trying to lighten it up a little…some primary colors… bunnies, that sort of thing." He stepped in closer to see what she was doing.

"You know, you really don't need to be painting…let me help you."

"No, Woody…that's okay. I can do it."

"But you don't need to be," he said, deliberately taking the paintbrush out of her hand and pushing her toward the couch.

"No, really….I can do it…"

"You're doing enough right now," he said, eyeing her tummy…the baby was kicking again and he could see it through the t-shirt she was wearing. "Sit on the bed and give me orders. You're good at giving orders, if I remember correctly."

She grinned and plopped down on her bed. For the next several hours, they worked together…making a place for their child. When he had finished, she got up and walked to the refrigerator and got him a beer. He gave her a look.

"No…I'm not drinking. Not a drop. Not since I found out I was pregnant. But I do keep them here for Nigel or Garret when they drop by to help me move stuff or bring stuff in from my truck."

"That reminds me….what are you going to do about that truck?"

"I'm working on a trade in. I really don't want anything with payments….so I'm finagling with the salesmen right now…"

"Want me to help?"

"I think I've got it covered."

Woody nodded, and went to the sink to clean up before he left. Turning to face her as he dried his hands, he said, "I'm sorry Jordan. I'm sorry I haven't been around for you during most of this….but you have to understand…I'll do what I can. And you'll never have to ask for child support, because you'll have it. But I can't be a father…for reasons I can't get into right now, I just can't…"

"I know, Woody."

He looked at her like she had lost her mind. But she continued, walking up to him and gently putting her hand on his chest. "I know…Cal told me."

Woody swallowed hard. "He told you everything?"

"Yes. And I understand. I really do. But for what it's worth, I don't believe for a second you're anything like your father. You're a good man, Woodrow Hoyt. A good one. I can't for a moment conceive that you would hurt a child. I've seen how worked up you get over child abuse cases we've dealt with. I don't know what makes you believe…."

"But I'm so afraid, Jo…so scared that one day I might lose my temper with a baby and…"

She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You wouldn't. I know you. You wouldn't. I'm not asking for anything from you…other than I would like you to be an active parent in our child's life…"

"I don't know…."

"Just think about it."

Woody nodded, slipped on his jacket, and eased out into the cool Spring night.


	9. It's a baby!

**Chapter Nine**

Woody nervously paced the floor of the waiting room on the maternity ward. He had gotten a call from Jordan a few hours ago. Her water had broken….two weeks early. He hadn't figured she'd make it to her due date…she was too big and carrying the baby too low. They had made a mad dash for the delivery room. She was in there now with Lily – who had promised to come out and let him know something soon. Lily was Jordan's birth coach. She hadn't asked Woody … Jordan didn't know if he would want to be there when the baby was born. She had offered to let him come in the birthing room, to see their son or daughter come into this world, but he declined. It just didn't feel right to him.

He glanced at the clock on the wall…Lily had been in there with her for a couple of hours now…he knew first births were long…usually anywhere from 12 to 18 hours. At least that's what he had been told. In less than 24 hours he would go from being a non-parent to a father. What a difference a day makes.

"You doing okay?" asked a voice from behind him. It was Bug. He had come to check on Lily.

"As well as can be expected," Woody grinned, the tension heavy on his face.

"Well…she'll be fine." Bug sat down to wait. Woody wasn't sure if he was talking about Lily or Jordan. Soon Nigel and Garret joined them. The left Sydney to hold down things at the office. The small clan from the morgue sat together in a group as Woody paced and ran his hand through his hair. Then Lily came through the doors.

"She's progressing right along…actually the doctor said it won't be long now. She's at eight centimeters. Her labor is going really quickly," Lily announced.

"Is she okay?" Woody asked.

"She's in pain. But she won't take any drugs…she's worried it might affect the baby. She wanted to know if you wanted to come in when the time comes?"

Woody shook his head no. "I don't think so…I mean…well…"

"Woody, it's your child," Lily said. "You don't have to do anything, just be there. I'll coach her through the birth. I really think it would do you and Jordan a world of good for you to be in there."

"You won't regret it," said Garret, coming up behind him. "Not for a minute. Not ever."

"You were there when Abby was born?"

"I was there every minute," he said, with a small smile. "Maggie said if I had been there for the fun, I had to be there for everything else, too."

Woody nodded and followed Lily into the maternity ward, stopping to change into scrubs on the way in. Funny…Jordan had always worn the scrubs…he never pictured himself in them. He went into the labor room with great trepidation.

Lily was right. She was in pain, her eyes shut, gritting her teeth and breathing through the contractions. "Jordan?" he said softly, reaching out for her hand. Which proved to be a mistake. She grabbed his hand and held onto it with a death grip until the contraction had passed.

"Woody….glad you decided to make it. Have you called Cal?" she panted.

"Yeah. Said he was catching the next fight out."

"Good. Oh, damn….here comes another one," she said, gritting her teeth again at the pain.

For another time in his life, Woody felt completely helpless….watching her suffer through the contractions….not knowing what he could do...or if there was anything he could do. Just then the doctor came through the door to examine Jordan. "All right, let's see what's happening now…you should be about at ten," he said.

But she wasn't, she was still at eight. "Something's not going quite right…" the doctor said.

Pure panic spread through Jordan and Woody. "What's wrong?" she asked, still breathing through the contractions.

"Hang on, let me check…" The doctor began looking at the fetal monitor print outs and muttering to himself. Woody looked down at Jordan. Tears were streaking down her cheeks. Woody bent down so his face was mere inches away from hers.

"Hey, babe, it's going to be fine…just give the doc a minute…the baby's heartbeat's strong…"

"But Woody…" He caught the catch in her voice…she was in pain and frightened…and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it…as a matter of fact, he had caused all this. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on her hand.

"Okay, Dr. Cavanaugh, we're going to have to move you to surgery…I'm afraid that you're going to have to have a C-section…your labor's not progressing and I think the baby may be just a little to big for you to deliver naturally."

"Are you sure?" Jordan asked.

"Yes….the heart is strong, but is becoming stressed, so let's go ahead and do the C-section…"

Jordan nodded and the doctor called for the nurses. The next thing Woody knew, Jordan was whisked away and he and Lily both found themselves back outside in the waiting room.

* * *

An hour and a half later, the nurse came to the door of the waiting area. "Detective Hoyt?" she asked. Woody stood and came to the door. "Your wife is in her room with the baby…she wondered if you were ready to come back?"

Woody nodded. _His wife_. He was sure Jordan hadn't told them that they were married. The nurse must have just assumed…but still the term jolted him into the reality of his situation. He stopped when he reached the doorway and just looked…there was Jordan, her hair piled up on the top of her head, a small, blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms. She was softly talking to it…Hearing him come in, she looked up and smiled. "Come here," she said. "Come here and meet your daughter."

Woody swallowed hard and slowly walked over to her bedside. _My daughter…a girl…there hasn't been a girl in my family in …God knows when. But there she is…my daughter. _He leaned over and softly stroked her tiny hand. _God, she's beautiful…_The baby had Jordan's hair…a deep chestnut. But her eyes…her eyes were his…crystalline blue, open wide…taking in her world.

"What's …what's…her name?"

"I haven't decided…thought maybe you would want to make some suggestions…"

"Emily….your mom's name was Emily…would you want to name her after your mother?"

Jordan shook her head no. "I want her to have her own identity. I was thinking maybe…Noel. She was conceived around Christmas time."

Woody nodded. "That's pretty…I like it. What about a middle name?"

"I thought you might like to pick it…since I chose her first name."

Woody thought for a moment. "Marie. You're middle name is Marie. I would really like her to have your middle name. Please."

Jordan looked up from her daughter. "Noel Marie…Hoyt?" They had not thought about or discussed what last name the child would have. Woody nodded yes. "Are you sure?" Jordan wanted to make certain he was okay with that.

"Yes," he replied. "Can I hold her?" Jordan shifted the bundle from her arms to his. He held her and looked on her in complete awe at the tiny individual in front of him. So small and helpless. His. "Jordan, she's beautiful…just like you."

"She has your eyes."

Woody held Noel for the longest time, not saying much of anything, just looking at her…thinking…

"Woody?" Jordan's voice brought him out of his thoughts..."Are you okay?"

"Yeah…she's just so…tiny. Are you sure the doctor says she's fine? I mean she came early."

"Picture of health. Six pounds 14 ounces, 18 inches long."

Woody committed the statistics to memory. He knew he would have to recite them to Cal. "

"Don't you think we ought to let the others in?"

"Do you feel like it? I mean, you just had a C-section…"

Jordan moved around a little. "Well, the epidural is still holding right now. Tomorrow's what I'm worried about and the days after for a while. I'm going to be sore."

"I'll take some time off …. And help."

"Thanks, Woody. That would be nice." Jordan looked at him closely. He still was gazing at his daughter, totally captivated. _Like his father, hell_, she thought. _He's one besotted daddy. Noel has him wrapped around her little finger and she hasn't even uttered a word."_ She smiled to herself. Now if Woody would only realize it.


	10. I've Been Expecting You

**Chapter Ten**

Woody carefully carried the baby seat with Noel in it to Jordan's apartment, setting her gently down on the counter. Then he turned to help her mother in the apartment. Jordan was still sore and healing from the C-section. "Bed for you…and her," he ordered, guiding her toward her bedroom area. Jordan didn't argue. The drive home had taken more out of her than she planned. She didn't get to rest in the hospital like she wanted to. People from the morgue the Boston PD came and went…she wanted to see everyone and let everyone see Noel, but it had taken a toll on her tired body. Now Cal was in town…Woody was letting him stay at his apartment while he stayed with "the girls" until Jordan was feeling better.

Their friends had been great…diapers, clothing…anything a baby could need, Noel had. Jordan had been given three showers and people were still bringing in gifts and food. But Woody knew Jordan had reached her limitations. She was worn out and still trying to nurse on a schedule. "Sleep while Noel is napping," he ordered. For once in his life, Jordan didn't argue. She went to sleep. Woody put Noel in the bassinet beside Jordan's bed, then went about straightening up the apartment and putting dinner in the oven to warm. When Noel woke up to nurse, Jordan found an immaculate house and supper waiting. "Gee, Woody, I could get used to this," she commented.

And immediately knew she had said the wrong thing. He turned quickly away, avoiding her eyes. Jordan finished nursing the baby and put her back down to sleep. "I'm sorry, Woody," she called softly, to him as he was putting dinner on their plates. "I didn't mean to…."

"It's okay, Jor. It's okay. I know this seems nice…and it is nice…and really family-type stuff. But I still don't know…Noel is so tiny. What if…I did hurt her…what if I really am like my dad?"

She wanted to tell him so badly that there was no way he was like that. She had watched him with his daughter for days now. The only words to describe Woody with Noel was "helplessly in love." He would hold her and talk to her for hours, if allowed. Changed her diapers. Fed her water. Burped her. Doted on her.

But like Cal had said, Woody would have to realize this himself…

* * *

For a week Woody stayed with Jordan and Noel. At first he slept on the couch, but was making so many trips between the living room and Jordan's bedroom that she finally told him to "park it in the bed and quit wearing yourself out."

"Are you sure, Jordan?" he had asked, very hesitantly. The last time he was in her bed…well, the results were crying the crib.

"Woody…it makes sense… and besides, even if you wanted to do something, we couldn't for six more weeks. So…just lie down and get some sleep."

He didn't argue. He lay down. The bed was a lot more comfortable than the couch, anyway. And holding Jordan while she slept was an added benefit. And one she didn't argue with. It was nice waking up in his arms…she was getting used to being held by him.

So he stayed for a week. Then he stayed for another. Cal had come and gone, ohhing and ahhing over Noel, taking six rolls of film, bestowing her with a frilly pink dress and her first doll. Much like the ones that Jordan had admired in the store last Christmas. Then suddenly, it was time for Woody to go back to work and life to get back to normal. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, leaving Monday morning to go back to his office.

"I'll be fine… we'll be fine…don't worry." She was over much of her initial soreness…still moving slowly, but doing well. She had just become used to him being there. Now her day seemed so empty.

"Don't over do…and if you need me, call me….and I'll check in at lunch."

Jordan nodded and shooed him out the door. "Bye…Dad." She made Noel's tiny hand wave goodbye by holding it in her own. Woody grinned and left.

And spent most of his day worrying about them. Was Noel okay…was she eating…how was Jordan? Was she managing? Was she resting? He went home that evening to his very empty apartment. Jordan and he both had assumed that once his time was up and she was better that their lives would once again be split in two. That she would pretty much go her way and he would go his.

But that wasn't settling well with him now, he thought as he lay on his couch and tried to watch TV. He worried about them…did Jordan eat dinner? Did Noel nurse okay today? He knew Jordan was going to nurse for the first six weeks and then switch to formula and bottles due to the fact she would be going back to work. How was she going to manage that alone…Woody saw first hand just how much effort it took to give her an evening feeding, a bath and get her down for bed. And Noel was, of course, waking up two or three times a night to feed again. Could Jordan manage that? By herself? And still get some rest? She needed to rest in order to take good care of Noel…

He shut off the TV and put his hands behind his head, deep in thought. _What if, somewhere down the road, Jordan gets married…and this guy is Noel's step-dad? How is that going to work? Will he treat my daughter well? How will she react? Hell, how will I react?_

_And what are you reacting most strongly to?_ That nagging voice in his head asked. _To the fact that Noel may have a step-dad or someone else will be sleeping with her mother….someone other than you?_

Woody wasn't sure he wanted the answer to that, but he knew what he had to do now. He rolled off the couch, grabbed his service revolver and badge, the suit he was going to wear tomorrow, threw some things in a duffle bag and drove over to Jordan's.

And she wasn't at all surprised when she answered the door and he was there, looking a little dazed and confused at the depth of his own feelings. "I know you must think I'm crazy," he began.

"Not at all…As a matter of fact, I've been expecting you," she simply replied holding the door open a little wider to let him in.


	11. No More Secrets

**Chapter Eleven**

Noel was crying and wouldn't stop. She had cried so much that she had the snubs. And Woody was beside himself, not knowing what to do.

Jordan had to work a double that night. She had called him and asked if he could keep Noel. Of course, he said yes. It had been a good afternoon, but a shaky evening. Noel was fussy with her bottles. She wouldn't eat. Finally, around ten o'clock, she started crying. He had burped her, walked her, tried to feed her again…changed her diaper. Nothing would satisfy her. Another ear-splitting round of cries broke the short silence in the apartment. Finally, in desperation, he dialed Jordan's cell phone.

"She's been crying for a couple of hours…I can't get her to stop. Any suggestions?" he asked, gently rocking Noel back and forth while cradling the phone between his cheek and shoulder.

"Have you taken her temperature?"

"No…how do I do that? Please tell me I don't have to hold a thermometer under her tongue…or stick it somewhere…"

Jordan chuckled. "No…there's an ear thermometer in the medicine chest in my bathroom. Use it. The directions are on the side of the box."

"It's 103.2," Woody said a few minutes later coming back to the phone. "What do I do?"

Jordan felt a rush of panic spread through her body. "Talk her to Boston Children's Hospital's emergency room. I'll meet you there."

* * *

The doctor looked Noel over and checked her vitals. "Well, Mom and Dad…Congratulations…baby has her first earache."

Jordan and Woody looked at each other dumbfounded. "You mean she makes that much noise over an _earache?_" Jordan asked.

"You would, too, if you'd never had one before," the doctor replied, writing them a prescription for an antibiotic. "Give her a dropperful four times a day…and a dropperful of children's liquid ibuprofen along with it for pain and fever. If she's no better in 48 hours, I will be seeing you again."

An earache. A damn earache…

Woody drove home with Noel and Jordan followed behind. They both collapsed once they reached the apartment. "I can't believe all of that panic was over an earache," Woody said, chuckling at the now sleeping Noel. He had gotten the first dose of antibiotic and ibuprofen in her without much trouble.

Jordan smiled. "Yeah… and you handled it just fine, Woody."

He nodded. "All I could think about was her….how much pain she was in. I just wanted her to feel better…"

"And it worked…look at her now. You're going to be a whiz with PMS in a few years…"

That statement startled Woody back into reality. Noel wasn't going to be a baby forever. She would grow up…and become a woman. Did he want another man helping raise her?

Did he want another man having his arms around Jordan? _Hell, no,_ he thought, watching her as she checked Noel one more time. At least at three months, Noel was finally sleeping through the night. And looking more like her mother everyday. He would have to fight the boys off by the time she was sixteen…His thoughts kept getting more and more uncomfortable. He knew Jordan would never deny him a place in his daughter's life. But where would that place be if another man entered the picture? "Say, Jordan," he asked, "Mind if I sleep here tonight?…I'm bushed."

"Sure…make yourself at home."

He had slept over quite a few times since Noel had come home from the hospital, but not lately….not since she had started sleeping through the night. He rationalized with himself that he was staying tonight because Noel was sick. At least that was what his head was telling him. His heart was telling him something altogether different. Jordan threw him a pillow and some blankets….he guessed the couch was his. He should have expected it.

What else was there to expect with things the way they were?

Damn.

* * *

The weeks were sliding by fast…Noel grew quickly. Woody would often find her with Jordan in her office on the weekends or at night. Jordan had this pouch thing she would wear around her with Noel in it. It would allow Jordan to keep her hands free and still let Noel what was going on a round her.

Woody was still finding his bearings…his place as a father. Although he often wondered at the legacy of abuse his father had left him, he didn't worry about it like he did before. He didn't know if he had forgiven his father, as Cal had admonished him to do, but he was putting his past in perspective. The secrets he had kept buried deep within him were out. He swore his daughter would not bear the same ones.

And he was a doting dad. He loved Noel completely and was totally at her mercy. Jordan was right…Noel had him wrapped around her little finger before she could even say "Dada." _Oh, God, and heaven help us when she does,_ Jordan often thought, watching the two together.

She was no longer concerned with Woody's ability to parent. That was crystal clear. He was a good parent. The issue that was cloudy was what place did Jordan play in his life, other than his child's mother. They still worked together…still had the joking banter…and they saw each other after work…with Noel. Jordan wasn't sure how Woody felt about her any longer. That night…nearly a year ago at her apartment, he had told her that once he could have loved her….before Devan. But now….now she wasn't sure. And being the progenitor of his daughter did not make her his sweetheart.

So for now, she was going with the flow. Parenting with Woody….working…being a mom. And was fairly content with the hand that life dealt with her until one day she was working with a new detective…Jeff Chrispens. "Hey, you're Hoyt's wife, aren't you?" he asked, after they had secured the homicide scene.

"His wife? No. I mean, we have a child together, but I'm not his wife."

"Oh, you're his girlfriend?"

Jordan paused for a moment. "No. Not his girlfriend, either. We parent Noel together. That's about it."

Jeff took the information in and said nothing else about it for the rest of the time they were on the scene. Later that day, he came over to the morgue to pick her Jordan's reports. "So…Dr. Cavanaugh…"

"Please. Call me Jordan."

"Jordan. Do you think that maybe we could go out for a drink after work tonight…get to know each other better? I mean, I'm new here to the Boston PD and really new to this town…"

Jordan looked at him for a beat. She hadn't been asked out on a date since…since before Woody landed in Boston and stole her heart. Only she wasn't sure what he was doing with it now. It had been a long time….and Noel was staying with Lily tonight…. Jordan was getting a welcome break. Finally, not really thinking of any excuses, she said, "Yes. That would be nice."

"There's a new tavern over off of Fifth. Want to try it out?"

Knowing that if she brought another man into the Pogue, word would quickly get out, she agreed. "I'll meet you there," she told him.

And she did. She left work, went home, showered, changed into a nice outfit, and met Jeff for drinks. They talked, laughed, and played a couple of games of pool. Nothing extra ordinary…nothing special. Just a nice night out…something that Jordan hadn't really had since she had gotten pregnant.

She didn't realize how much she needed it until she was on her way home. _You know_, a voice in her head told her, _you could do this more often. Woody could keep Noel and let you do this every couple of weeks._ But she knew she was lying to herself. For as much as she enjoyed the night with Jeff, he wasn't Woody. And when he had leaned in to give her a kiss goodnight, Jordan had found herself pulling away…just letting him brush his lips with hers.

Jordan drove back to her apartment and went to put her key in the lock when the door swung open. Woody was standing there, his hair in a million directions, the knot in his tie loosened, and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. "Where have you been?" he asked, nearly shouting at her.

"I went out for a few drinks with a friend."

"Who?"

"A friend, Woody."

"Jeff?"

Jordan sighed and pushed past him into the apartment. Dropping her purse and keys on the counter, she turned to face him, arms crossed defiantly across her chest. "Yes."

"How do you think that looks?"

"Woody, I don't care how it looks," she said, now nearly shouting herself. "He asked, I said yes. That's all."

"Do you know he came back to the office after he asked you out and told nearly everyone?"

"No. I didn't. He's a friend and he asked me for drinks…that's all Woody. Lily has Noel tonight and I haven't been out in forever. I thought it might be fun and it was. And that's all it is."

Woody ran his hand through his hair and whirled around from her, pacing to the other side of the apartment. "Jordan," he finally said, in a quieter voice, "how do you think that makes me feel?"

"You?"

"Yeah. Me." He turned back to face her. "Didn't you think it would bother me?"

"I'm sorry, Woody. No. I didn't."

"Jordan, you're the mother of my child. We have a relationship…"

"No. We parent together. I haven't heard a word about _us_ since the night I invited you up for coffee."

He walked over to her and ran his hands down her arms. "Don't you think that means anything?"

She pulled away from him. "I don't know…you haven't said anything…I didn't think you were interested in me anymore, other than being the mother of Noel."

"Jordan…if I wasn't interested, why would I worry about you so much?"

"I'm the mother of your child…"

Woody shook his head. "You're more than that, Jordan. I can't handle the thought of you being with another man."

"Then why haven't you said anything?"

"I didn't think I deserved to…I mean, you went through Noel's pregnancy mostly by yourself. And the birth. Then the C-section. I kind of waffled out on everything because I was dealing with my father…and what he did to me…and what that may possibly mean to Noel."

She went over and put her hands on his arms. "Woody…you deserve whatever you want…"

"Then I want you, Jordan. I don't just want you as the mother of my child… I want you. I've missed you…"

"But I've been right here. All you had to do was let me know…"

"You mean…you still care for me…after everything…Devan…running from the pregnancy…."

"Woody, I love you….I've never stopped. I knew it before Devan came on the scene…I just didn't know how to tell you. We've been through so much, I wasn't sure if you still felt the same, or even if you could love me," her head was lowered and her hair was in her face, so Woody couldn't see her eyes. Gently, he reached out, put his fingers under her chin and raised her face to his.

Swallowing hard, he said, "We've wasted so much time…"

"Well, that's what keeping secrets will do to you, you know. You're so busy trying to keep them secret, you can't live your life."

Woody pulled her to him and softly pressed a kiss to her hair, then her cheek, then lightly brushed her lips with his. "Then I suggest we don't keep anymore secrets…."

Jordan couldn't reply…his lips were on hers and she forgot about everything else but him…"Hmmm?" was all she could manage.

"Hmmm?" Woody teased back, pulling her jacket from her shoulders…. "So Lily has Noel tonight?"

"Until late tomorrow afternoon. Said she wanted to give me a break…and a chance to rest."

"I'm not sure how much rest you're going to get, Dr. Cavanaugh," he said, now working with the buttons on her shirt.

"Probably as much as you're going to get, Detective Hoyt," she replied, sliding his tie the rest of the way off and attacking the buttons on his shirt.

Woody smiled down at her. "No more secrets…between us, okay?"

Jordan nodded and lifted her face for another kiss. No more secrets about their past…or the present….just time to live their lives…together.


End file.
